


Showtime, Amatus

by JayRain



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 10 silk scarves, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Dragon Age - Freeform, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:30:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6448222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayRain/pseuds/JayRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Give me ten silk scarves, and I'll give you a dance that will really shock them."  The Inquisitor calls Dorian's bluff.  Based on art by Tamarandom on DeviantArt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Showtime, Amatus

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this artwork by the amazingly talented Tamarandom: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Ten-Scarves-599830004

_Showtime, Amatus_

“Give me ten silk scarves, and I’ll give you a dance that will _really_ shock them,” Dorian murmured into Theo’s ear just before the Inquisitor rose from the granite bench in the Winter Palace gardens.  He had to suppress a smile as Theo blushed a deep red and almost tripped over his own feet as he headed back into the Winter Palace. 

After everything that had happened that night, with the Venatori attack and the attempt on Empress Celene’s life, Dorian had forgotten about the casual remark.  And truthfully, he mostly said it to make Theo blush.  It was so easy to do, and the way his cheeks turned red and his ears burned was so endearing, and especially because it was Dorian’s words and presence that did it to him.

They’d been back at Skyhold less than a week when he started catching Theo staring at him differently: eyes slightly narrow, lips occasionally quirking upward in a smile.  He always just shrugged when Dorian called him out on it, but Dorian knew Theo was up to something.  The Inquisitor was a terrible liar.

Still, it came as a surprise when Theo joined him at his small nook in the library and handed over a tissue-wrapped parcel.  His green eyes sparkled in anticipation as he leaned forward.  “Open it,” he insisted, his gaze darting between the pale green silk ribbon and Dorian’s face.  He folded his hands on the tabletop to keep himself from reaching out and pulling the ribbon himself.

“You’re a bit excitable today,” Dorian noted, taking one end of the ribbon between two fingers and tugging absently.  Theo stared at the package with wide eyes, his nostrils slightly flared as he tried to hold himself back from his excitement.  It made Dorian want to chuckle aloud, but he didn’t.  He just enjoyed teasing the Inquisitor.

“Stop stalling,” Theo said. He made himself sit back in his chair, take a deep breath, and cross his arms over his chest.  He was trying to stay calm, but he looked as tense as a bowstring, and was having trouble keeping from grinning.  “I went through a lot of trouble to get that for you.”

“Please, _amatus._   You’re the Inquisitor.  People are falling over themselves to accommodate your wishes,” Dorian said.  Still, it was nice to see Theo smiling and playful, and at last he took the ribbon in his hand and tugged.  The silk slithered off the tissue and Dorian made a show of folding it over itself and setting it down primly on top of the book he’d been reading.  He peeled back the tissue slowly, the crinkling noise of it breaking the quiet of the library.  He watched Theo’s face as he folded away the last layer.

The excitement was gone, replaced by a sly grin and mischievous sparkle in his eyes.  “Like it?” Theo asked.

Dorian stared down at a pile of fine, sheer, pale green silk.  Even his fingers—which he meticulously manicured and moisturized—caught on the fabric slightly.  He started to lift a piece of silk from the packaging, but Theo rested his hand on Dorian’s wrist.  “What…” he began.

Theo’s grin spread.  “I want to see that dance you mentioned.  Later tonight.”  He stood, trailing his fingers over Dorian’s hand before he turned and sauntered out of the library.

Dorian watched him leave, the feeling of Theo’s fingers making his hand tingle, and his stomach flutter.  He looked down at the pile of fine silk and felt a stirring of anticipation in his breeches.  Theo _would_ call his bluff.  He sighed and closed his book, then wrapped up the parcel and prayed he wasn’t blushing as he walked the halls of Skyhold, bound for his room.  It was only early afternoon, which meant he had time to practice.

* * *

Theo hadn’t expected his day to be nearly as long as it ended up being, and it was late by the time he finally excused himself from the war council room.  The corridors of Skyhold were dark and quiet, lit only by low-burning torches.  He hauled himself up the flights of stairs to his chambers but stopped suddenly at the top.

The curtains had been drawn across the high windows that overlooked the mountains, and a fire burned in the hearth.  And there was a very handsome, very naked mage sprawled across his bed, one sheer green scarf draped over his sloping shoulders.

“I nearly fell asleep waiting for you,” Dorian said.  The firelight reflected in his pale eyes and cast shadows over his bronze skin.  “I was wondering how long you were going to keep me waiting.”

Theo could only stare as Dorian swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded across the floor.  He pressed his body against Theo and lightly flung the scarf around Theo’s neck and used it to pull him into a deep kiss.  He led him toward the bed and slipped the scarf away.  The fine fabric made Theo tingle all over… or maybe that was Dorian’s hands in his hair, then running down his back, grabbing his ass…

Dorian pushed him onto the bed.  He stood, one scarf wrapped around his hips.  It did nothing to hide the trail of fine dark hair leading down to his erect member, or the perfect curve of his cheeks.  Theo felt his own member pressing against his trousers and his breath came more quickly as Dorian stood at the foot of the bed, green silk slithering through his hands and the firelight illuminating him from behind.  “My one question for you, dearest, is why are you still clothed?” Dorian smiled, his moustache twitching slightly as he watched Theo fumble with his clothing.

“You could help,” Theo muttered as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor.

Dorian crawled onto the bed and undid the laces of Theo’s trousers with deft fingers.  He did brush over Theo’s straining member ever so slightly; Theo shuddered as he kicked off his pants.  He leaned up against the bolsters and pillows of the large bed.

“Now.  I don’t do this for just anyone,” Dorian said, sliding the silk around his waist and glancing over his shoulder at Theo.  His gray eyes glinted in the orange light.  “And while I know this will be enjoyable for you, I must insist that you keep your hands off,” he said with a pointed glance at Theo’s erection and his wandering hand.

“You just want to torment me,” Theo said, but he folded his hands behind his head.  He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the image of Dorian burned there, and took a deep breath.  He let it out slowly and tried to focus on something other than the tingle in his groin.  He opened his eyes and nodded once at Dorian.

Dorian gave a seductive smile and slid another silk scarf across his shoulders. “Showtime, _amatus.”_

He strode to the center of the room, the firelight outlining him in such a way that he looked like he was made of flame.  He stood with his back to Theo, arms stretched out and the first scarf draped between them.  He dropped one arm and swirled the scarf around his torso and his ass, the silk whispering as it caressed his skin.

There was no music but the crackle of the fire, though after a few hypnotic twirls of bronze skin and green silk Theo became aware that Dorian was humming: a slow, low melody, exotic and more beautiful than any Chant verse or tavern song Theo had ever heard.  As he hummed he moved like a serpent, shifting with the firelight and shadow, the silk scarves sliding over his arms and shoulders and chest.

Theo rolled over onto his stomach and leaned on his elbows, his cock throbbing beneath him as Dorian danced: singing a song just for him, moving as smoothly as the silk he now twirled like ribbons at his sides.  He wanted to dance with Dorian, wanted that gossamer cloth trailing over his own skin, wanted Dorian’s hands on him, and Dorian’s mouth on his. 

And then Dorian stood before him, one arm across his chest and the other above his head, holding the end of the scarf.  It wrapped around his forearm like a snake; it slithered across his skin and passed just under his eyes.  He stared down at Theo through his long, dark eyelashes, his gray eyes deep and mysterious and Theo feared he’d lose himself over the edge right then and there.

Dorian dropped the scarves into a pool of pale green silk at the foot of the bed.  The fire seemed to dwindle slightly.  He slid onto the bed beside Theo and ran his hand down his back and over his cheeks.  Theo felt his skin prickle and his need swell dangerously.  “Shocking enough for you?” Dorian whispered into his ear.

“I don’t think the Winter Palace would have ever seen anything like that,” Theo agreed.  “I didn’t realize they taught dancing like that in Tevinter.”

“They don’t,” Dorian said, nudging him.  Theo rolled over and Dorian pressed against him, his body all heat and tingling mana against him.  “I made it all up.”

“You _what?”_ Theo asked suddenly, but before he could ask more Dorian’s mouth was pressed against his, and Dorian’s member was pressed against his leg.  “You may… have to show me that again sometime,” Theo gasped between kisses.

Dorian reached down and picked up one of his scarves.  He trailed it across Theo’s torso.  “That could be arranged.”

It would likely be at least a week before Theo could concentrate again.  He knew it and Dorian knew it, but for tonight it was just the two of them, ten silk scarves, a crackling fire, and a warm bed. 


End file.
